


Pandemonium Lost

by Mimic_Teruyo



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Parody, Touhou PC-98 Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 09:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimic_Teruyo/pseuds/Mimic_Teruyo
Summary: After her attempt at seizing rule in Makai fails, Mai seeks out a new line of attack. If she cannot win, she can at least hurt her creator as much as possible.Or, the Mystic Square fic no-one asked for.





	1. Books I & II

There was a howling wind where no wind should have blown, tearing across the rough-hewn tunnels and shelterless fields and scattering the weakest of Mai's troops into the air whenever it passed.

If she ever found out which one of the lesser demons had begun the rumour that the wind was an ancestral foe of their kind that Lady Shinki had banished from her realm back when all had been new and their great sovereign was yet to shape the first spires of Pandemonium, she would wring their neck. It was too late to keep it from spreading now: the most feeble-minded had already fallen to their knees, begging forgiveness from a god who couldn't hear them and would never grant it regardless.

She gazed quietly at one such fool, trembling as she hugged her shoulders and mumbled inaudible pleas, then stood up on her perch and spread her wings, rising to the air to survey her dominion. The dismal plains of the underworld stretched far into the distance, barren and without a speck of beauty but for her suffering followers, sitting on the glassy ground hunched and cradling each other, expressions drawn in misery and barely suppressed wrath.

She swooped downwards and floated in place, stretching her wings to their full span and allowing her magic to flow into them till all eyes, both red-rimmed and defiant, were on her and her glowing feathers. She gave them her sweetest smile, one she had had countless centuries to practice, then raised her voice.

"Why do you weep, friends? We're finally free. No longer do we have to worship a fake god who couldn't defend her own realm, who can't even control her own powers."

A few of the listeners stirred, but most remained listless.

Mai pushed onwards. "It is not our failure that destroyed Pandemonium. It wasn't even the invaders. It was our so-called creator herself who set it on fire. How can you possibly be sad to be free from her? We will create a new realm here, mightier than Makai ever was."

Several more of the demons now looked hopeful, but the general mood was still sour. Though she cursed the doubters, Mai couldn't help but understand them. Their surroundings were anything but awe-inspiring, and though she knew they could erect mighty palaces and create glittering bridges just like those of Pandemonium, not everyone had the vision she had.

She folded her arms and jutted out her chin. "You know my power. You know why our creator has cast us from her realm. She fears me. She fears all of us. And that is why we shall have our vengeance, both on her and those humans."

A solitary, thin cheer rang from the audience. Many of the demons smiled, though equally many scowled. She memorised their faces for future retribution before she continued: "We will win, and one day we will reclaim Makai itself. It's our birthright. Forget the false god and her minions. We will rule."

With that, she lowered her wings and rose rapidly towards the cavern's ceiling, finally hearing the cries of approval she had waited for. A single feather escaped her plumage and fell downwards, its shimmer fading as it descended.

Yes. She would rule.

 

* * *

 

Now that the majority of her army was at least somewhat heartened, Mai summoned the strongest and most cunning of the lot to hold council with her.

"The sooner we retake Makai, the better," she began, cutting to the chase. The time for coyness had long since passed. Never again would she have to pretend to be an unassuming little magician almost too shy to speak.

"But how?" The strongest of her lieutenants asked, twirling a strand of her blonde hair in her fingers. "We fought them once already. If we can't even get past Yumeko, then how are we supposed to defeat Lady S—"

Mai held up her hand before she could utter the name of their hated creator. "Direct force is not the only way. If we use cunning to disorganise them, we can take them when they're at their weakest. Think about it." She smirked at the circle, matching their uncertainty with flawless confidence. "Those invaders weren't actually that powerful. Two of them were mere humans, yet they caused so much chaos in so little time that our former dictator was unable to do anything to stop them. All we have to do is emulate them, and we'll have the fools who remained loyal to Makai on their knees before they even know it."

"If the invaders were so weak," a cynical voice rang from one of the least powerful of the companions, "then how come they beat you?"

Mai knew her thoughts didn't show from her face, but she dismissed her desire of freezing the obnoxious nay-sayer on the spot to keep it from her voice, too. She had never been as good at controlling it as she had been at lying with her facial muscles. "Back then, I was still feigning to be the creator's loyal subject, and had no choice but to get caught by an unavoidable attack while trying to protect Yuki after she was shot down." There were no witnesses to say it hadn't gone that way, anyway, and the lesser demon appeared suitably chastened. "So. I need a volunteer to sneak into Makai. Someone who is brave and powerful, and willing to put their life at risk."

The demons glanced at each other. Not a single one stepped forward.

"None of you want the glory of being the lynchpin of our victory?" She had anticipated as much. "Then I shall do it myself. I will return to Pandemonium and show them we mean business."

She basked in the hushed awe of her followers, then rose into the air. "Hold the fort till I return."

The demons saluted, even the nay-sayer. She smiled, then summoned an aura of frost, large enough so that even the furthest away members of her army could witness the might of their leader, then began flying towards Makai.

She was only been in the air for a few minutes when she arrived at the gate Shinki had erected behind them after banishing them, all flawless crystal and steely blue, utterly incongruous with the surrounding granite.

She alighted before it, frowning. If there was one thing Shinki had got right, it was impressing those around her with dazzling displays of power. Mai too had been hooked for a long time, believing in her right to rule, till one day she had seen through the hollowness of these conjuring tricks and for the first time had thought exactly why she should be the only one to be called a god.

She brought her hand to the gate, seeking a weak spot which to pierce through, when she heard someone land not far behind her.

"Mai, wait!"

It was Yuki, of course. Their exile had transformed her former partner's appearance: though she hadn't changed physically, it was as though she had aged several decades at once.

She settled for giving her a frosty glare. Yuki wasn't worth words.

Yuki was as oblivious as usual. "You could hurt yourself. And anyway, there's no need."

Mai folded her arms. "I am going to Pandemonium, and you will not stop me."

Yuki hesitated. Then, she rammed her hand inside her dress and drew from it a small blue crystal on a chain. "It's just that Lady Shinki gave me the key."

Mai stared at the crystal, but when she stepped forward and attempted to nab it, Yuki suddenly pulled away, clutching the crystal protectively in her palm. "But I don't think you should go, Mai."

Mai allowed her hand drop to her side. For a moment, they merely stared at one another. Finally, she straightened her back. "I don't see how what I do is any of your business."

Yuki looked down, in a way which Mai knew from experience usually meant she was about to explode in a fiery rage. The flames never rose, however, and when Yuki spoke up, it was in a low, sullen voice. "When Lady Shinki gave me this, she told me I was supposed to keep doing what I was created to do."

Mai quirked an eyebrow. "To serve her, you mean. Now who's the traitor?"

"To protect you!" Yuki's head jerked upwards, her eyes burning. "You know as well as I do that we were created for each other. I will follow wherever you will go, but that doesn't mean I have to allow you to do something that will end in your death. So please," her voice turned soft and cajoling, a tone she only ever used when they were in private, "you said we can build our own world here. I'm sure we can be happy here! There's no need for revenge."

Mai stared at her for a long time, lowering her gaze till it was at her shoes. She remained silent.

Then, she began to giggle.

Once Yuki blinked in shock, the giggles gave way to fullblown laughter, which continued for so long Mai wasn't sure she ever could stop.

"You're still going on about that?" she asked, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye. "You still think— you still believe we were ever friends?"

Yuki's hands curled into fists, and she shook her head back in a way which suggested she didn't believe a single word of what she was hearing, or at least that she didn't want to believe them.

Mai gave her the sweetest of her fake smiles. "I despise you. I've despised you from the very beginning. You're a weakling far too content to lie in ignorance, too stupid to see how much of a burden you're to everyone around you." She allowed the smile to vanish, revealing the true contempt that had waited beneath it. "If I had had the chance, I would have pierced your heart the moment our revolution began." She raised her chin. "Now, you'll either give me the key, or I shall take it from your corpse."

Perhaps owing to some gift of prophesy or foresight, Shinki had given Yuki powers that were at an direct advantage over Mai's, but in that moment, Mai had no doubt that fuelled by her centuries of ever-growing hatred, carefully nurtured under a mask of shyness and friendship, she could destroy Yuki without breaking a sweat.

Perhaps Yuki realised it, too. She was shaking now, but had made no move to attack as was usually her wont. The knuckles around the crystal grew white.

With leaden steps, she stepped over to Mai and extended her arm. Mai held her palm underneath it, and she dropped the crystal in it, then turned and walked away, her head hung low.

Mai had better things to do than watch an idiot sulk. She held the crystal towards the gate and watched it spring to life, opening with a low, earthquake-like rumble.

She didn't wait for it to open fully. As soon as the gap was wide enough for her wingspan, she hung the chain around her neck and took to the air, flying into the outskirts of Makai.


	2. Book III

Shinki took a step forward, made sure she had all the room required to spread her arms, then focused. The smoky rubble which not long ago been perfect, reflective crystal walls, but which had been clouded over by the fire, rose into the air and compressed into a glowing orb. At the sweep of her arms, it decompressed and reformed into a thick, smooth substance, reflecting the small, unhappy face of the girl standing behind her, tinted in blue.

She shaped the material into a decorative pillar, adding a mosaic of darker blue to the top before breathing out and allowing the heat that escaped from her body at moments of creation to return to her body. The reconstruction had been arduous work, hampered both by the guilt that stemmed from knowing she herself was behind the force which had ravaged her realm, and again when a group of her dissatisfied subjects had suddenly risen up in open revolt. Still, both those events were now history, while Pandemonium would rise again greater than ever like a subterranean phoenix.

If there was one good thing about the destruction, it was the chance to re-imagine Makai. She smiled at Alice, who wouldn't respond in kind, then gestured at her to follow her. They walked past the crystalline benches she had created before Alice's arrival, and to the statues of those who had especially distinguished themselves in the recent fighting.

"It captures her essence, I think," she said, gently stroking the out-stretched arm of the image of Yumeko, swords in hand, poised for battle. Every contour, every feature matched that of the real Yumeko, right down to the curve of her ears which weren't even visible from behind her hair. Naturally, it would have been difficult for the statue to not have been a perfect copy of her most loyal subject: she had created it in the exact same manner as the original, only substituting the material and leaving the new creation without the spark of soul.

Alice didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the statue representing herself, its arms held to the sides, flanked by two fairy dolls which stayed aloft thanks to a current of magic emanating from the base of the statue. As with Yumeko, the likeness was perfect, though the real Alice's hair was far more neatly parted than the wind-tousled curls of the statue.

"Mother?" Her voice was quiet and sullen.

"Yes, darling?"

"Why are you making statues to celebrate when we lost?"

"We aren't celebrating our loss, but our continued survival." A part of her was already considering what kind of patterns she should adorn the freshly raised battlements with. Were spikes too threatening? She wanted something awe-inspiring without the trappings of tyranny. "We are celebrating that we have an opportunity to create everything anew, by taking what we want from the old and ignoring all else."

Alice considered this for a moment, but her expression told Shinki the discussion was far from over. "So we're just going to stay here and let those strangers who invaded us go unpunished? It's their fault Pandemonium was destroyed, Mother. Why don't we attack them back?"

Shinki let out a long-suffering sigh. Alice was her finest creation, a genuine simulacrum of a human not even the greatest of arbiters could tell apart from a natural one, and the only one of her children who took advantage of the privilege of calling their goddess _Mother_ , but she was still young, with the rashness of youth.

"It's dangerous," she replied, feeling a concrete deterrent would serve best under the circumstances. "I can't leave Makai to defeat them, nor would I dream of sending anyone else to that realm after what happened. Besides, I have already sealed the entrance to that _Gensokyo_." She pursed her lips at the distasteful name. "It bars your exit as much as it blocks their entrance. We're done with that land for good."

Before Alice could protest, she held out her hand. "Come. I have something to show you."

What Alice needed, she thought as they descended down the one hundred and one identical steps modelled after the rifts in the outskirts of Makai, was some kind of a project to take her mind off what had happened. A hobby, perhaps, or better yet, some kind of a responsibility. She was growing fast, differently from most demons, and needed something to keep her occupied.

Once down the steps, she led Alice through a set of pearl-inlaid gates and into the new garden she had put the finishing touches on earlier that morning. Unlike in most of Pandemonium, both old and new, there were virtually no crystals. Lush trees hid the high walls from view, and the grass was so soft walking on it with bare feet felt like a caress. She had chosen the colours of the flowers growing in the massive centrepiece by the pool directly for Alice's benefit: pristine white petals intermingled with the blue of twilight, encircling a magnificent centre of golden roses, which swayed gently in the illusory wind she had allowed into the garden.

She glanced at Alice. She was just as dull-eyed as she had been up at the foyer, but she did at least look around.

"Come here. See? All the trees bear fruit, and you can eat as many as you wish." To showcase this miracle, she walked to the nearest slim-leafed tree and plucked a fruit hiding in the shade. It had the lightest of blue peels, revealing the golden flesh of the fruit within. She showed it to Alice with a smile.

Alice didn't take it. She was no longer looking around and was gazing intently in the direction where the distant path to Gensokyo had stood.

"Alice."

Alice must have have heard from her tone that she was no longer smiling, and attended.

Shinki brought her hands before her and focused. A grimoire of no small age with black covers and gilded embellishments materialised between her palms. She took hold of it with both hands and addressed Alice. "This is one of the few great treasures we have remaining from before the fire. Its loss would be devastating to our culture." She held it out. "Its yours to guard now."

Alice's eyes widened as Shinki placed her index finger on the cover and reshaped the gilding to form words, announcing the grimoire's new ownership for everyone to see. "Mine?"

"I know it will be safer with you than in the library."

With trembling hands, Alice accepted the grimoire.

"However," Shinki continued, "you must never open it. It contains powerful magics which when unleashed can rewrite reality itself. If wielded carelessly, they would wreak untold destruction. Keep it close and safe, and make sure no-one sees so much as a single page."

Alice frowned, but when she nodded her assent, she did so decisively. "I will, Mother."

Shinki smiled and leaned forward to stroke her hair. "I know I can count on you. Enjoy the garden."

She left Alice and walked back to the steps. There was work to be done.

 

* * *

 

Mai glided across the lake of liquid pearl, thinking how much simpler life had been when she had first witnessed it when exploring the vast expanses of Makai with Yuki. Back then, there had been no question that the vision of beauty had been the creation of the great Lady Shinki, creator of everything including their very souls, and her heart had swelled with gratefulness and joy to be allowed to experience the world.

Now, she saw the lake and remembered how they had all gathered at its shore as Pandemonium burned, Yuki's sweaty hand in hers, the flames reflected in the pale waters as their home was obliterated before their eyes, and how her anger had risen as she thought that Shinki had kept them all in the dark about the true nature of the universe, creating instead pretty distractions to keep them singing her unfailing praise.

Most demons still accepted the fiction that the worlds beyond Shinki's realm were of inferior make, that no city could ever match the pristine glory of Pandemonium and that they themselves were the finest living creatures in the world, but then, Mai had always been the cleverest and most inquisitive of her kind. She had observed the borders of Makai and peered as far into the lands beyond as Yuki would allow before her fearful protests became too loud to ignore. They had been among the first to visit other lands after Shinki had opened the gates, and while Gensokyo was messy and chaotic, there was beauty there, too. She had seen the smile on Shinki's face when they sang her praise, the way she promoted those of her creations she preferred to positions of great honour regardless of merit and talent, and heard Yumeko utter one time too many that Lady Shinki's judgement was beyond all reproach.

Maybe, if Shinki was so eager to maintain status quo, she shouldn't have given them free will.

She dived, correcting her angle as close to the lake as she dared, studying her reflection as she flew parallel to the surface. She was still radiant, wasn't she? She was just as sweet and beautiful as before.

Only, she could see a shadow of the scar on her lower arm, faint and white.

She hastened away from the lake and headed straight for the gates of Makai. Once there, she paused and waited patiently in the air, retracting her wings and reassuming a harmless guise for what she hoped would be one of the last times ever.

She didn't have to wait long. Soon she spied movement at the very top of the gate, and the very next moment the gatekeeper fell upon her, her vast skirt flaring up as she descended like a billowing aura.

She halted her fall several feet above Mai, folding her arms in an imperious gesture. Mai resisted the overwhelming urge to sneer. Sara had improved her entrances, but she had no doubt she was still the same twit as before.

Her smug smirk was certainly the same as ever. "Well, look who's back."

Mai considered responding with a well-aimed frost spell, then instead gave Sara her sweetest, shiest smile, the kind that had always made Yuki laugh and throw her arms around her. She'd have no trouble crushing this pipsqueak, but it would take a moment and undoubtedly attract attention. Today, she would breach Makai's defences with guile alone. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Nah, it's pretty dull here now that the fighting's all over." Sara hovered backwards till her back was against the gate. She placed one foot on the magic-enhanced surface, trying and failing to look cool. "Not that you're likely to care, but the rebuilding's going well. It looks really nice around the palace now."

"On the contrary, I'm glad to hear that. Does that mean there's something new?"

"I only had a glimpse of it, of course." Sara nudged her head towards the gate, as though Mai didn't know she spent most of her life sitting on top of it, guarding it with the single-mindedness of a complete dullard. "But there's a huge garden over there now, with trees like the ones in Gensokyo, just better. Probably the best thing Lady Shinki has ever created."

Sara's only, very short visit to Gensokyo had been during night-time, so she must have been speaking entirely based on hearsay. "Do you think it would be okay if I went to see it just for a moment?"

"Having second thoughts about leaving, are we?"

Leaving? They had been forced aside. "Maybe a little. I would love to see trees again."

"I was kinda hoping you'd come here to fight, but..." Sara chewed her lip as she studied Mai's face. "Yeah, go ahead. No-one deserves to be deprived of Lady Shinki's wonders.

Mai curtsied. "You're too kind."

Sara followed her to the top of the gate — something which for the first time made Mai wonder what was even the point of building a gate that didn't reach the ceiling of the cave — and gazed into Makai proper along with her.

"Don't go starting any trouble," she said. "I know for a fact Yumeko won't hesitate to cleave your wings right off if she catches you."

Mai preened. "Trust me, that won't be an issue."

Sara nodded, but she looked doubtful as Mai sprang off the gate, gliding gracefully towards the capital.


	3. Book IV

The gleaming towers of Pandemonium rose sharply in the horizon as Mai approached, heedless of the air resistance and the gnawing feeling that had begun in the pit of her stomach and had now spread through her innards, desperately trying to attract her attention. She steered clear of all residents of Makai: everyone who chose to remain in Shinki's service was an utter fool, but that didn't mean one of them might not have a stroke a genius and realise what Sara hadn't, namely that she was there for far more than to bask in the supposed glory of Shinki's creations.

 She made it to the palace unobserved and dived at the first sight of trees, well aware that if she dawdled in the air so close to the heart of Pandemonium, she'd be sure to attract the attention of either Yumeko or Shinki herself.

She landed on the top of the highest tree of all and buried herself in the branches, the spear-like leaves tickling her bare knees. Soon, she had a secure hiding place with an excellent view: the garden was built up on a high plateau at the foot of a large spire and overlooked the entire city and most of the surrounding planes.

Gazing at her former home, she was overcome with a sense of nostalgia: the cityscape had changed, yes, but it still held the essence of what once had been back when life was simple. Even after the lustre of Pandemonium had faded, as long as she had held onto the mask of contentment there had been times when she'd been able to fool herself into thinking the world was an uncomplicated place, accepting her subsevient position to get away from the pain and anger that came from knowing that while Shinki was a god, she was far from infallible, and that Makai was as much a prison as it was paradise. Now it had returned, as radiant as ever.

And so, as she sat still in the tree like an overgrown dove trying to go unnoticed by predators, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake. Weren't there far worse things in the world than being attached to a sappy, easily excitable fool and pretending she believed in Shinki's omnipotence?

She turned towards the spires. If she sought out Shinki and prostrated herself before her, might she still take her back?

No. She sunk deeper into the leaves till even the top of her head was entirely obscured. The look on Shinki's face when they had been cast out of Makai was answer enough. Besides, even if there was a sliver of hope, could she truly make herself bend the knee under those baleful eyes and pretend she was as meek and obedient as Shinki had hoped she would be? Her soul and freedom were worth more than that.

The only option left was to make the dream she had proclaimed to her fellow rebels a reality. She has powers aplenty. She could manage.

And even if she couldn't win the war, she could certainly hurt Shinki enough to turn her victory into ashes in her mouth.

With that thought, she focused on the only person in the garden. Alice had settled down under a large trees with vast, transparent leaves, listlessly chewing on a pink fruit. She looked just as Mai remembered her, sans her fairy dolls which had been destroyed in the tumult, and carried an ancient-looking tome in the crook of her arm.

Mai settled down to wait. Now that she was her own master, she had all the time in the world, and the soft gentle scent of the tree she was hiding in was soothing. Even the feel of the leaves on her skin had gone from uncomfortable to feeling like fleeting caresses. She watched Alice, finish her snack, wipe her hands in her apron, clutch the book against her chest and frown as if she was trying to solve a difficult puzzle, and finally, finally, close her eyes.

Mai waited for a good while longer till she was sure she was asleep, then alighted onto the grass.

She wasn't surprised Alice had remained on Shinki's side. She was the most exalted of her creations, loved beyond what any of the rest could dream of. All the same, observing her peaceful slumber made her scowl.

Her fingers itched, and she tentatively summoned a short, sharp icicle. She could pierce Alice's heart right there and then and escape before anyone detected her, but who was to say Shinki couldn't breathe life back into what she had already once created?

No. There was a much better way to have her revenge.

She crouched down next to Alice and reached out to push an errant lock of hair behind her ear before she had time to stop and think about it. She withdrew her hand slowly, her eyes narrowing on the book. She didn't need to touch it to feel the hum of powerful magics contained within. It had to be a grimoire, and an incredibly potent one at that.

Why Alice should have one, she had no idea, but it gave her food for thought.

For the time being, however, she settled for leaning in closer till her mouth was next to Alice's ear and breathing in a spell.

It was a simple charm, and an innocuous one, used to inspire sweet dreams. It could be modified to induce nightmares, but instead, she transmitted images to fuel her victim's strong sense of justice: she knew she had to be just as angry as she was that the invaders had escaped virtually unpunished, even if it wasn't for the same reasons. Yuki had usually wanted dreams of adventures and daring deeds, easy enough to modify into a fantasy of justified revenge with Alice as the hero.

The expression on Alice's face changed. Her pouting mouth curled into a self-satisfied smile.

Mai mirrored the expression and was just about the reinforce the spell when someone materialised right behind her. She forced herself to turn slowly, knowing that if it were Yumeko she was practically doomed anyway, only to instead come face-to-face with the ever-serene Louise.

She made her shoulders relax. "It's been a while."

"Mm-hm." Louise cracked an eye open. Mai was relatively sure she could see without her eyes as easily as she could shift through the material plane, and didn't much care for the theatrics. "Sara told me I might find you here. Care to explain what you were whispering just now?"

Mai stood up, well aware she only came up to Louise's shoulder in her current form. "I came to say goodbye."

"I didn't think you were close."

"Closer than you two ever were." She wasn't lying, either: as far as she knew, Louise and Alice had never exchanged more than a few pleasantries.

"Hmm." Louise opened both her eyes, a rarity. "I assume you're done now?"

Mai considered her options. As a full-fledged magician, Louise would have been a bit of a joke, but for a civilian she was surpisingly fearsome, with precision and control over her abilities which made up for her relative lack of power, the exact opposite of an angered Yuki. Mai could take her on, no question about it, but as with Sara, the battle would last minutes rather than seconds, and would absolutely attract unwanted attention considering where they were.

Then again, if Louise was on her tail, she already had that attention. Better make her exit and fast.

She curtsied. "I'll go, assuming I'm allowed to leave unharmed."

"I'll send guards to go with you to guarantee that will be the case." Louise clapped her hands. Two small demons in matching blue dresses and wielding spears emerged over the garden wall.

Since when did Louise have this kind of authority? Shinki must have been desperate if she was promoting old hands instead of creating new ones. Mai didn't allow this thought to show on her face, however. She curtsied again and rose to the air as primly as she could, fixing a beatific gaze on Louise. "I suppose this is farewell for us, too."

Louise didn't even deign to nod in response. She had always been a fool.

Mai followed the junior demons out of Pandemonium. She recognised neither of them, and knew weaklings when she saw them: emergency demons created to fill the gap that Mai's demons had left behind, most likely. Shinki's powers may have been great, but here was more proof that for all her claims, they weren't infinite: why else not make these two as powerful as Yumeko or Mai herself?

They abandoned her halfway to the gate and flew away without word. Mai watched them go with a secret smile.


	4. Books V-VIII

When Alice drifted back to wakefulness, she saw the spectre of some long-dead demon, reflected in blue with eyes like bright embers. When she rubbed her eyes, however, she saw it was only Louise, as calm as ever and standing stock still with her hands behind her back.

 "Louise?" She seated herself more upright against the tree. Only belatedly did she remember she was holding the grimoire, and it took a moment longer to remember why she had it in the first place. "Is something wrong?"

"Not as such." Louise's voice was always soft, like she was drifting somewhere far away. "Did you sleep well?"

"I..." Once the question was put to her, Alice felt a sudden unease. Her slumber had been peaceful, but there was something that had taken residence at the back of her mind that cursed at the lingering relaxation and wished to be made itself heard. "I had some strange dreams."

"You should ignore them." Louise only barely cracked her eyes open, which meant she wasn't overtly concerned yet, but also suggested she knew more about Alice's dreams than Alice herself.

She clutched the grimoire against her chest. "What has happened?"

She half expected Louise to brush the question aside, but apparently her tone had been strident enough to give her pause. "There was an intruder. She's gone now."

Alice stared at her, her unease growing. If she focused her magic, she could almost make out a shape next to her, faint like the shadow of fog, with soft contours and feathery wings.

"Mai," she said.

If Louise was surprised, she didn't show it. "Yes, Mai. She claimed she wanted to say goodbye to you."

Alice drew up her knees and reflected. She had never been especially close to either Mai or Yuki: they were far older than her and had each other, anyway, but they had always been friendly towards her. She could envision Mai's smile right then, so gentle and unassuming.

"I still don't understand. How could someone like her—" She cut herself off, unsure how to progress.

"Lady Shinki didn't explain the situation to you."

She wasn't sure if Louise's words had been a question or a statement, so she answered them just in case. "I asked Mother, but she said she wouldn't speak of it. That it was over and that was all that mattered."

Louise smiled and sat down on the grass before her, carefully folding her legs to avoid creasing her long skirt. "As it happens, that is why I'm here. Since the subject is so painful to her, she has authorised me to explain the entirety of the rebellion to you. All she asks in return is that you won't speak of it afterwards."

Alice was now paying rapt attention. First the grimoire, and now this? Perhaps Mother did understand some of the secrets that dwelt in her heart, after all.

Or perhaps... there was a kind of rare sombreness to Louise's demeanour. Something was going on, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

Still, she unfurled her legs and sat down more comfortably. "I'll keep quiet."

"Thank you." Louise took a deep breath. "It began as soon as the last of the fires had been quelled. For some reason, Mai had gotten it into her head that she had the right to defy Lady Shinki's rule, and was trying to trick others into supporting her cause..."

 

* * *

 

The building that the curious demons had gathered in was in a sorry state. It had been a common hall, with food and games and usually at least one demon showing off their musical talents at all times, sometimes resulting in light-hearted duels when two or more wished to play at once. The walls had withstood the misfired attacks from those, but they had melted away before the fire: one of the walls and half the roof were entirely gone, and only the back wall had survived with only light burn marks. It was a miracle the hall still stood, literally — Lady Shinki had used her powers to stabilise all damaged buildings after she had regained control of the fire and seen what it had done.

Despite the building's teetering condition, an entire throng of demons had packed into it, so many that several didn't even fit inside what had once been the walls and stood in the open air next to it, many flying upwards to better see the two small figures, one clad in white, the other in black, standing on the raised platform against the back wall.

Louise didn't bother with flying. She had already found herself a comfortable spot on a nearby roof from which she could follow the figures' every movement with a knit brow. What could Yuki and Mai possibly have to say to a gathering this big? It could be it was as Lady Shinki had suggested when she had sent her over to observe, that Yuki's temper had gotten the better of her and that she was was trying to agitate the demons into a counter-attack.

However, she had noticed something strange. Lady Shinki had created her with excellent hearing and sight beyond what any eyes could see to best fulfill her purpose as an observer, and so she had no trouble seeing the exact expression on Yuki's face. It wasn't the expression of an agitator. She looked nervous, even troubled, her eyes constantly flitting towards Mai and then back to the crowd. She fidgeted with her fingers and kept shifting her balance from one foot to the other.

Mai, meanwhile, stared at the clamouring crowd with a passive expression, as still as an ice sculpture. There was something about her usually soft, innocent face that gave Louise pause, and after a moment's consideration she realised it was the eyes: there was a strange gleam to them, almost a radiance, bright but harsh.

Yuki stepped forward and raised up both her hands to silence the crowd. Her arms were shaking.

"Everyone!" Her voice was thin, a far cry from her usual brazen tones, but thanks to the general silence still perfectly audible. "We've asked you to come here because there's something very important Mai wants to say."

She backed into the wall, the shaking spreading to her entire body. Mai stepped forward.

"My friends." Her voice was barely any louder than her usual speaking voice, but it resonated over the entire crowd. "I've known you all since birth. We all call Makai our home. We all fought together to protect it. And," here, she raised her chin with a kind of decisive jab. "We have all been betrayed."

A wave of hushed confusion rushed through the audience.

"Our leader," Mai raised her voice to be audible over the growing murmurs, "has presented herself as our omnipotent creator and expected our absolute obedience. We have defended her rule without question. But if she is all-powerful, why are we currently standing in a building destroyed by her powers? Why did we even have to fight the invaders if we are ruled by an infinite being who can shape reality at will? And if she has lied to us, why should we accept our subjugation?"

As one, the crowd began to shout. Despite her sharp hearing, Louise could make out little more than the general emotions: confusion, outrage, and a curious undercurrent of fear.

"She has claimed the right to rule over us on account of being our creator, but what do we want with a creator who cannot even protect her creations!" Mai's feet had left the ground. Her wings, usually short and stubby, more ornamental than practical, were growing and stretching outwards. The feathers glowed. "We are powerful and have been pushed down for long enough! Let us take Makai and rule it for ourselves!"

The crowd grew wild. To her great alarm, Louise saw that while many jeered at Mai's ridiculous plot for treachery, just as many or more were cheering for her, buying her rhetoric wholesale and denouncing their own creator.

Mai gestured the crowd silent and began speaking anew, but Louise was already allowing her essence to drift into mist and reform in another place out of view. Lady Shinki would have to be warned as swiftly as possible. This could well mean war.

 

* * *

 

"And war it was," said Louise, straightening imaginary wrinkles from her skirt. "I think she had been planning it all for far longer than she let on." A grim sort of smile briefly crossed her lips. "She has always thought herself more powerful than she is. She may have even deluded herself into thinking she was truly a match to Lady Shinki."

Alice shook her head. From the vague understanding of the events she had gathered before Louise's explanation, she hadn't for the life of her been able to understand why Mai could possibly wish to rebel. Now she saw she was simply mad.

Louise closed her eyes. "By the time I made my report to Lady Shinki, they had already taken up arms. They came storming towards the palace with all the ferocity of an unthinking mob, drunk on Mai's words, certain they would win the right to rule."

Alice frowned. "I never saw them."

"That is because we met them before they ever reached the walls of the Palace. You were likely asleep by then."

Alice still found it odd she hadn't been woken by the clamour. Had Mother cast a spell on her to keep her asleep? It sounded exactly like the kind of thing she'd do to keep her _"out of harm's way"_. "But you got to fight."

Louise was silent for along while, again preoccupied by her dress. "Yes, I had to fight," she finally said. "I was there."

 

* * *

 

The tumult was such that Louise could scarcely think, let alone listen to a single voice. She tried closing her ears, but to no avail: the sound was already in her, rattling her bones.

She had escaped to a nearby roof after an errant spell had almost sliced her arm off, allowing the rest of her body to dissolve before the follow-up blow and finding a nook created by rubble where she could knit herself back together before joining the fray.

No small part of her hoped it would be over before then. She hadn't been created for open war. Very few of the residents of Makai were. Lady Shinki had never anticipated a concentrated campaign against Makai, let alone that one should come from its own ranks.

And yet, here they were. Several hundred demons had risen up led by the triumphant figure of Mai. The parley had been short, with Mai haughtily rebuffing the defenders' warnings, and from there on there had been no words but cries of war, subsumed by the sounds of crystals crashing against crystals and spells crackling against flesh.

Even now, Mai rose higher than any other combatant. She was dazzling in full aspect, so different from her usual childlike appearance, sporting a hungry, anticipatory grin as she unleashed her spells at full blast at Lady Shinki's defenders, shooting down anyone who dared challenge her in her lofty heights. In fact, despite their superior numbers, the defenders were melting away, too startled by their ferocity of the rebels after only just surviving the previous invasion. Above all, they fled before Yuki's fireballs, which she was lobbing indiscriminately around with a pained grimace on her face.

Mai's grin widened as yet another demon cast down her spear and ran for cover. She truly thought she could win. And for a fleeting moment, Louise thought she might, too.

Just then, someone appeared in the air between Mai and the palace with the suddenness of thunder. Mai halted in her flight and hovered in place, smiling at the newcomer.

Yumeko didn't smile back. In fact, she wasn't even looking at Mai. Her eyes were cast towards the ground, cold and deadly, much like the gleaming swords in her hands. The light of the spells whirring in the air made her hair shine like spun gold.

Then, she raised her gaze. Without any preamble, she launched one of the swords at Mai's chest.

Mai acted at once, deflecting the sword with a sudden shield of ice. The blade cut through, but the shield lasted long enough for Mai to fly out of the way, the sword missing her upper arm by a hair's breath.

Louise forgot about the pain in her arm and the chaos around her as she watched the two demons lunge towards each other. Each moved like quicksilver, using their abilities so fast even Louise's trained eye could barely follow each summoned blade and shard of ice, their attacks clashing again and again. The other fighters didn't halt, exactly, but the battle below abated as more and more eyes turned skywards to witness their commanders' duel.

Louise squinted. Magnificent though it was, it was becoming clear the pair of them were not equally matched. Mai fought with the self-assurance of a fanatic, but she responded to each of Yumeko's strikes just a fraction more slowly, with just a hint more ungainliness. Even her spells were lacking some of the lustre they had had the moment before.

And then, it happened. Mai raised both her hands to block a ferocious upwards blow, creating a shield of spiky ice which spread and grew and trapped Yumeko's blade within it. She grinned.

Yumeko's other blade pierced her right side.

The grin froze on Mai's face, soon replaces by wide-eyed agony. The ice shattered into a thousand shards as she wobbled back, flagging all the while, then began drifting downwards.

Yuki exclaimed something that could have equally well been Mai's name or a wordless shout, then flew upwards, catching Mai in her arms before she fell on the still raging battle. Mai barely reacted to her rescue: dreamily, she reached to touch the gaping wound beneath her ribs, then marvelled at the iridescent liquid sticking to her fingers.

Yumeko re-materialised before them.

"Retreat!" cried Yuki, narrowly dodging a slung sword and already flying towards the outskirts of Makai. The vast majority of the rebel troops soon followed. Only a few hapless demons who had either not heard the orders or didn't acknowledge Yuki's authority kept fighting, their ferocity swiftly losing to the overwhelming forces now against them.

Before the rebels could make their full escape, a new figure rose to the skies.

Louise stood up, clutching her arm. Lady Shinki stretched all three pairs of wings to their full span, their purple brighter than ever, their red glowing as if fuelled by the distant sun.

Several of the rebels fell on their knees, their eyes widening as they finally understood the folly they had committed by defying their creator. The foolhardier ones instead took this as a sign that it was time for a final push and with redoubled effort threw themselves at those loyal to their god. And Mai...

Mai had stirred in Yuki arms, turning her gaze up towards Lady Shinki. The shock of injury had ebbed away, her dwindling strength still carrying her. Her face twisted into such an ugly, hateful grimace that it was nigh impossible to believe this was the same creature Louise had seen gently following the happily skipping Yuki all around Pandemonium a mere three days before.

She shoved at Yuki's chest and launched herself back upwards, spreading her wings to better carry herself. With a furious snarl, she thrust her palm towards Lady Shinki. An orb of freezing energy began gathering in it, creating wide waves of frost lashing over everything around the nexus of the attack.

Lady Shinki closed her eyes.

When Louise next opened hers between blinks, the entire rebel force was gone.

 

* * *

 

"Where did they go?" Alice asked.

Louise shrugged. "Lady Shinki deposited them in the underworld beyond Makai. There they will remain, or else scatter in the four directions. That is their punishment." She smiled. "Still, Lady Shinki is merciful. She'd rather let those who don't wish to live under her rule to live elsewhere than force them to obey. They are still her beloved creations, after all."

"Hmm." Was it really a kindness? Alice wasn't sure which was worse: dying, or having to live out the rest of your life outside of Makai after having dwelt there once?

"Do you have any questions?"

"Just one. Why couldn't Mother tell me this herself? Why would it hurt so much?"

Louise reached out to stroke Alice's hair. "Perhaps you'll understand one day."

Alice didn't see how. She was unlikely to have creations of her own, not when everything in Makai was created by Mother and Mother alone. Furthermore, none of this explained why Mother had let the invaders from Gensokyo flee without repercussions.

"You shouldn't concern yourself with it." From the frown on her face, Louise could tell she wasn't as satisfied with the story as she ought to have been. "Mai won't be returning here. You're quite safe."

"I'm not afraid of her," Alice snapped. Why did everyone insist on treating her like a child?

Louise nodded, then stood up and curtseyed. "I will see you later."

She left Alice alone with her thoughts, and a lingering anxiety which she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried.


	5. Book IX

 

 

 

The dregs of Makai had increased patrols, but nothing was easier for Mai than allowing her body to dissolve into an icy mist and slowly drifting back towards Pandemonium. If anyone was aware of her presence, it was only as a sudden chill passing by as it soon as it arrived.

She allowed her proper form to re-materialise back in the safe confines of the fruit tree she had lurked in before, then quietly observed all that happened around her, which wasn't much: after Louise's departure, Alice alone remained in the garden, pottering around aimlessly, lost in distant thoughts. Finally, she departed, leaving Mai alone.

Night fell, which in Pandemonium meant the unearthly glow of the spires around the perimeter dimmed, and the chains of light overhanging the streets went out one by one. Mai stretched out her wings then curled them around her body like a cocoon, allowing her mind drift into a slumber-like haze.

She was only tenuously aware of how many hours had passed when the lights returned and she found herself covered in morning dew. She shook her hair free of it, then spotted Alice back in the garden, wading through the wet grass, enjoying the sensation but not fully attending. Her mind was yet again somewhere far away, and Mai could guess it was with the distant intruders, wondering exactly what they were doing, and if they were gloating. Once more, she was holding the grimoire.

There were no sentries in the sky, and on a such a peaceful morning few would show up at the heart of the realm. There was no time like the present.

She plucked two of the crystalline fruits off a nearby branch, marvelling at the feel of the smooth texture of their peels, then alighted from the tree.

 

* * *

 

Alice spun around at the sudden rustling, ready to show no fear and to sling her most potent spells, only to freeze in surprise as she saw who the intruder was.

Mai stood before the largest tree in the garden with her hands behind her back, looking as sweet and gentle as she ever had, her small wings soft as clouds. Her blue eyes shone like dew as she offered Alice a small smile.

Alice blinked. She hadn't forgotten Louise's tale, She pressed the grimoire protectively against her chest before speaking up. "You shouldn't be here."

Mai nodded, as though she had expected this. She then held out a hand. There was a spherical, ruby-red fruit in it. "Are you hungry?"

Doubtfully, Alice accepted the fruit. Mai procured another one from behind her back and leaned against the tree trunk as she unpeeled it. Once she began to eat, Alice allowed herself to follow suit.

She kept eyeing Mai as she ate, feeling more uncertain by the moment. Even knowing of her magical prowess and the kinds of pranks she and Yuki had sometimes pulled, it had been difficult to imagine Mai as an agitator, let alone an army leader. Now that she was actually there, exuding her usual gentle, benign air, it was practically impossible. Wasn't Mai her sister, in the same way all residents of Makai were sisters? Could she really also be an exiled troublemaker? With eyes like that, meeting Alice's gaze with such obvious friendliness?

She swallowed the last of the fruit. "Why did you return?" If Mai made up an obvious lie, it would make the decision to find Yumeko or someone else to drive her away that much easier.

Mai stopped eating and sighed, in a light, airy way which suggested she wasn't exasperated with the question, just that she wasn't sure where to begin. "I wanted to see you again." She stepped forward and extended her wings, rising just a few inches in the air as was her wont when she wished to be comfortable. "I hadn't seen you since the fire, and I was worried."

"I'm fine." Alice wiped her hand in the hem of her skirt, then clutched the grimoire with both arms. Should she ask how Mai was, or would that be rubbing salt in a wound?

Mai had also noticed the grimoire, and she glanced in its direction every once in a while as she spoke. "There's another reason. Lady Shinki didn't want me to tell you what we're doing, but you're a good magician, and we're going to need you to reclaim Makai's honour."

"...In what manner?"

"By defeating those invaders, of course. You didn't really think Lady Shinki would allow them to sack Makai and escape without punishment?" Mai returned to the ground and sat down cross-legged on the grass, apparently heedless that it was still damp. "I heard how well you fought during the invasion. You can hold your own, and I think Lady Shinki is making a mistake by not including you in our plan."

Saying Mother could make a mistake was practically treason, but Alice would have lied if she claimed she hadn't also thought as much. "Did you tell her that? Is that why you were banished?"

Mai blinked. "You... Oh." She smiled, and Alice thought she saw a hint of smugness ghosting behind the usual shyness. A single glare was enough to make it evaporate, turning the smugness into tenderness. "You've spoken with someone who's not in the military, I suppose. Our true plan was kept on a strict need-to-know basis."

"I don't understand."

"We're not actually banished." Mai's eyes gleamed in the light reflected from the towers. "We're putting on a show so that once we retaliate against Gensokyo, it won't be all of Makai that suffers if they muster a counter-attack. Of course, it's impossible to tell if those people will actually care about the difference, but that's why we're staying elsewhere for the time being. If nothing else, they shouldn't return to Pandemonium if they chase after us."

Alice nodded at length. It sounded risky, but it warmed her heart to know the destruction of their home wouldn't go unavenged. She never should have doubted Mother.

Her brow furrowed. Then again, Mother also should have trusted her with this plan. Why did she always have to coddle her? Even the grimoire now seemed like something to keep her distracted while real heroes meted out justice, a sad substitute for real responsibility.

While she was still debating whether Mai or Louise's version of the events rang more true — Louise had the advantage of detail, but Mai's pleased her far more, bare-bones though it was — Mai frowned. "There's a problem, though. I was actually trying to reach Lady Shinki to ask for her help, but after I saw you were carrying that," she nodded at the grimoire, "I can tell we don't actually have to bother her. You're more than powerful enough to solve our problem for us."

Though she knew she probably shouldn't have, Alice felt warm. "What is it?"

"You already know Lady Shinki had to block the way between our world and Gensokyo." As one, they turned towards the distant barrier. "She meant to leave in a slight flaw we could use to break it. but she has made it so strong it won't budge unless we take so much time that those not in the know will spot us and come to stop us. The whole plan would be ruined."

Alice pictured the barrier in her mind. It was robust indeed: Mother's creations were always meant to last. "I don't think I can help you with that. I'm not—"

"With that grimoire, you can. With its powers, you're a match to Lady Shinki herself. In fact, this may have been Lady Shinki's real plan all along. She would want her true daughter to be the hero of the hour."

"Stop it," Alice said, trying to keep her cheeks from reddening. "We're all..."

"You fought really well," Mai continued in a tone which brooked no argument. "If I can see it, there's no way Lady Shinki doesn't. That's why she's decided to trust you with more power."

She stood up and returned to the air, flying close to Alice.

"I'm happy for you." She reached out, her hand brushing close but not quite touching Alice's hair. "I always knew you'd be a great magician, better than Yuki and me put together, and I'm really glad I got to witness it."

Alice's cheeks burned. Still, she smiled back at the sincere pride radiating from Mai's eyes. Did Mother really trust her so much? Perhaps Louise had been acting on her own, or else it had been a test to try her resolve. She had the grimoire, after all. Surely Mother wouldn't have given it to her if she had any doubts she'd misuse it.

She considered it and the immense power lurking beneath its covers, struggling to get out. "What should I do?"

"If you open the grimoire, you can blast through the barrier. Then we can follow you to Gensokyo to hunt down the invaders.

"Or you could stay here and guard the exit." Better not risk the lives of any other residents of Makai. If the power of the grimoire was as both Mother and Mai said — and it was, Alice could feel its power rattling her bones whenever she held it against herself — she should be able to exact payback on the four trouble-makers all by herself. "It'll be even easier to explain a single person gone rogue."

"You're not wrong, but..." Mai wrestled with the remaining words before swallowing them. "Yes. Of course you can handle them by yourself. You're not a child."

Alice stood up and offered Mai her hand. "You're right. I'm not a child." A part of her wished to rip the grimoire open right there and then, and it took all her willpower to resist the urge. "And I won't let Makai down."

She basked in the admiration flowing from Mai, as soft as her angelic wings.

 

* * *

 

They kept a low profile as they drifted away from Pandemonium, flying so close to the ground the hems of their skirts kept brushing against it. Mai had given her the lead without murmur, following in silent contemplation with the occasional darting glance to see if they were being followed.

The grimoire was changing. It was as if it knew it was about to be opened: it hadn't changed in size, yet it felt both both heavier and larger, the covers burning against Alice's bare arms. Still, she'd rather have let go of her own heart than drop the book.

From up close, the barrier looked like a sheet of pristine glass. She didn't need to touch it to know it would be freezing cold, and suspected the other side mimicked instead a dead end to deter curious explorers.

"You had better keep your distance," she said without removing her eyes from the barrier.

"I'll go, then." Despite her words, Mai lingered on a little longer. "Good luck."

Alice nodded. She waited till the echo of fluttering wings subsided, then held the grimoire before her. She traced her finger across the letters on the cover, lingering on her name.

She ripped the book open.

When she opened her eyes, the barrier was no longer there. She looked at the open pages to see long paragraps of ornate text accompanied by illustrations of magical fields, all quite mundane. Nor did she feel any different.

She was already beginning to doubt when the strength crept in, starting from the tips of her toes till all her pores were trembling at once and filling her with a soft, confident warmth that felt like immersing herself in a hot bath. She looked at where the barrier had been and finally understood that she had removed it, she herself, so easily she hadn't even noticed.

She flew towards Gensokyo without once looking back.


	6. Book X

When Alice returned the the underworld, she felt a profound shame within her so deep it might as well have been instilled in her bones.

Her loss had been bitter, yes, and she wasn't happy about having to face Mai again after her failure, but what really hurt more than her injuries ever had was the knowledge that she had given it her all, and it still hadn't been enough. Even with the grimoire, at the full height of her powers, she was still...

She shook her head. She'd address the terrible gnawing beast that had awoken within her the moment she had understood she might lose later. For now, she needed rest.

There was something else, too. She couldn't put a finger on it, but there was a kind of ache close to her heart for which she had no explanation and which only grew more prominent the deeper she dwelt. It manifested as a kind of mist just behind her eyes, making her nauseated and very aware something was out of place, like a dislodged limb but in her soul.

By the time she caught first sight of the spires of Pandemonium, she flagged towards the ground and caught herself just in time to partially control her landing. The grimoire escaped from her grasp a moment before her collapse, but as it didn't open she didn't pay it any attention, focusing instead on breathing. The mist had condensed into a suffocating fog, dimming her thoughts.

She was at the very spot where the barrier had been, she realised. Next to her left hand was a reflective shard, like a piece of a broken mirror. She had never heard the barrier shattering, had thought she had simply willed it out of existence, but here was proof of the event nevertheless.

She blinked and looked at her reflection again. She could have sworn there was something wrong with the image, but even close scrutiny didn't reveal anything amiss.

She tore her gaze away and focused on the grimoire. She thought of chucking it in a gorge, but she might have just as well attempted to throw away her arm. Even if it hadn't granted her a victory, it was now a part of her soul.

She glanced at the shard once again. Her blood stilled.

Whenever she blinked, the eyes reflected back changed from their familiar gold to a deep blue and back again.

She staggered to her feet and very nearly bumped into someone who had materialised behind her back. Spinning around, she just barely avoided skewering herself with the glimmering sword in Yumeko's hand.

Yumeko gave her a staid look. She had wide eyes which always made her look somewhat bemused, but from the gentle curve of her mouth Alice knew she was merely observing her in silence.

A thin line appeared between her eyes. "Can you breathe?"

Alice hesitated, then nodded, the fog constricting her breath somewhat shoved aside by the shock.

Yumeko was yet to blink. Without warning, she held out her free hand and dragged Alice towards her till she was lodged under her arm. "Let us go."

And with that, the world around them vanished.

 

* * *

 

Alice sat on a cushioned seat in the newly formed library, wishing she couldn't make out the words coming out of the adjacent room.

Mother was crying, the shadow of tears soft but unmistakable in her voice. That was the worst part.

Yumeko in turn was speaking with calm efficiency. "The change is yet to settle. She'll likely become a magician."

It was getting difficult to breathe again. Alice surrendered to the fog, allowing it to drift through her as it wished.

A light touch on her shoulders jerked her back to reality. She had just enough time to see Yumeko's golden eyes before she warped away, leaving her alone with Mother.

Mother stared at her silently. Her eyes were dry — had she imagined the tears? — and they made Alice's heart quiver. Without further preamble, she crouched down and wrapped her arms around Alice.

A blazing inferno ripped through her skin and consumed her to the marrow. She opened her mouth to scream, desperately wrenching herself away from the fire that was everywhere like a pain-maddened beast.

And then it was over, the fog suffocating the ghost of pain, and she saw she had torn herself away from Mother's arms and landed on the floor.

Mother had turned statue-like, her arms futilely trying to grasp air. She recovered as soon as Alice noticed this, returning them to her side and standing up. Her expression was otherwise unchanged, but her eyes wavered.

"You cannot stay here."

Each syllable was composed of lead and struck Alice like a hammer blow. She opened her mouth to apologise, to explain what had happened, but then she saw there was no anger on Mother's face, only horrible, overwhelming sorrow. She felt herself shrink to the size of a pebble.

"When you opened the grimoire, you changed the fabric of reality." Mother's voice sounded like it was echoing from some faraway abyss. "The changes are still volatile, but the ones affecting you are clear enough. The magic here will kill you if you remain here for too long."

Alice swallowed, but her throat remained parched. "Can't you... change me back?"

Mother shook her head. "The power of creation isn't so easy to quell. I can use it, but I can't change what has already been created by you. Only you or someone with powers fundamentally different from mine can do that now."

"Mother..."

Mother moved to embrace her before recalling the previous attempt and recoiling.

"Where would you like to go?" she asked after a pause. "I can open you a path to wherever you'd like to live."

Alice couldn't answer. Her throat was too wracked with sobs.

When she next looked up, Mother had placed a hand on her mouth. Her shoulders shook.

They stood still for a long while.

 

* * *

 

Mai drifted away from Pandemonium, trusting her body to find its way to safety without her input.

Surely it was triumph she felt. She had certainly been pleased with her cleverness, to where she had struggled to keep a straight face as Alice swallowed the bait. The ripples of the changing world were still spreading, subtle and subcutaneous but already irreversible. They likely wouldn't harm Alice — they might make her more powerful than ever, assuming she managed to cling to the grimoire — but she would no longer be the flawless porcelain daughter Shinki had created her as.

In other words, Mai had won. Furthermore, she had won with ease, such ease it was actually less satisfying than a genuine struggle would have been. The curse of the highly talented, she decided.

The remnants of beauty that radiated from Shinki's realm soon gave way to the tunnels, caves, and plains shaped by wild magic. She hurried onwards. There was one thing she greatly looked forward to: the recounting of her great success to those who had followed her to exile. If anything could rouse her popularity higher, that would.

She flew through the gates she had forced open when seeking out Pandemonium, then halted mid-air.

The plain was deserted.

She descended slowly, staring. Were they in hiding? Surely there was no force lurking in the underworld that could challenge the forces which had gone toe-to-toe against Shinki's?

"They left," a small voice said behind her.

Yuki was a small and subdued shadow of her usual energetic self, but she met Mai's flabbergasted stare without hesitation. "They began worrying after you'd been gone for a while. They said that you couldn't possibly face off against Makai by yourself and would never come back. I told them to have faith, but that just made them talk about what happened with you and Yumeko. Then the first few drifted off, and after that..." she finished with a shrug.

Mai couldn't utter a single word for a long while. When she finally spoke, she cursed herself for managing little more than a whisper. "Where did they go?"

"In every direction, I think. I didn't ask them while I begged them to stay, and by the time it was too late for that, it didn't seem to matter either way. I think most went looking for new worlds to live in."

"And no-one wanted to stay?"

"No-one. Some hesitated at first, but then one of them said we could never reclaim Makai anyway, so what was the point of shrivelling in some cave when there's an entire universe just waiting for them." Yuki tried to smile, but it looked more like some invisible force was tugging at a fishhook attached to her lips. "I told them that there's no place outside there better than Makai, not unless we build one, but while they agreed with the first part I don't think any of them believed we could build a better home."

Mai said nothing.

"That's fine," she finally managed, and though she could hear the tears in her voice she gave the ground a sarcastic smile. "They were fools and weaklings, the lot of them. I don't want Shinki's cast-overs in my army."

"Mai..." Yuki had inched closer. Mai couldn't find the strength to raise her arms to shoo her away.

"I don't need anyone," she continued, counteracting the wavering of her tone by increasing the volume. "I'm free from having to follow anyone's rule, and I've avenged myself on Shinki by taking away what she loves the most. What else could possibly concern me? The whole world is mine."

Yuki said nothing. She came closer still.

"There's no reason to..." She had to pause to swallow. Her throat was still dry from the flight. "There is nothing to regret..."

She didn't flinch when Yuki wrapped her arms around her from behind and leaned her head between her wings, the touch too familiar to be eerie even under the most despairing of circumstances. Her posture stiffened nevertheless. The hug was too soft, too gentle, and far, far too warm.

"Let go," she said flatly.

Yuki tightened her grip. "No."

They stood in perfect silence with nothing but the sound of water slowly dripping down by the entrance of a long tunnel which Mai suspected led to Hell. How many of her foolish former allies had wandered there found themselves in an unwinnable battle against territorial oni? A fitting reward for their disloyalty.

She made a tentative effort to shake Yuki off. "I said let go. Didn't I tell you that I despise you?

"You did."

"I meant it. Every single word I said. I've hated you since the very first day."

"I know." Yuki leaned more of her weight in.

An even longer silence followed. Mai's eyes drifted to the alabaster ceiling. Perhaps Yuki was simply gathering her courage before unleashing her powers to burn them both to crisp? If so, so be it.

"But even if hearing those words hurt like you really had pierced my heart," Yuki continued, soft as a cat's paw. "It didn't make me hate you, Mai. And I don't want you to suffer."

"I don't suffer," Mai replied, too hastily. She couldn't help it: after everything she had been through, the sweet simplicity of her stupid, obnoxious, loud, only loyal friend was a sentiment too many which made it all boil over.

"I believe you." From any other lips, she would have expected sarcasm, but Yuki said the words with the perfect sincerity. "I know you're really strong, Mai. Stronger than I'll ever be."

And it was with those words that Mai let all her resentment, all her guilt and hatred, jealousy and contempt, and finally her bottomless sorrow spill out as tears, accompanied by a wail of despair which echoed all across the tunnels.


	7. Books XI & XII

The first of the morning lights lit up as Yumeko escorted Alice through the gates of the sleeping Pandemonium.

They walked, slowly and hand in hand. Lady Shinki had insisted they take every measure not to tax Alice by forcing her to exert herself in the air which was now toxic to her. Yumeko was fine with it. Yumeko was fine with most things.

Besides, the long journey gave her time to contemplate the way she felt the fibres of her being ticking towards a distant but inevitable extinction. Ever since Mai's uprising, time, till then more a vague suggestion in what felt eternal, had been ticking decisively forward.

Alice must have felt it too, but she said nothing. She looked ahead with a stoic expression, her head held high. Already she was changing, and once it was over her time in Makai would seem like another life, lived by another person.

Their destination, the very gap Alice had torn into Makai's protective barrier, was already visible at a distance. Why she wished to return to the realm that was the source of her misery, Yumeko didn't know, but Lady Shinki had agreed to it and Lady Shinki's word was the law.

"The path may not exist in the future." Speaking felt like shattering the bubble of silence that had developed around them.

Alice took this warning with the same acceptance she had taken everything after drying her tears on the day prior. "Then I'll find a new path."

Yumeko nodded, leaving unvoiced the possibility there would be nothing to find. Who knew where the ripples running through reality would settle?

Well, Yumeko did.

"Once you're in Gensokyo," she said out loud, "you will shortly become a youkai. A magician, to be precise."

Alice nodded. If she was surprised by the proclamation, she didn't show it.

Yumeko let no emotion reflect on her face, either, but she felt a strange shudder running through her. Rarely, if ever, had she put stock into the idea of comforting others. It was not what she was created for. Even so, she felt better telling Alice of what lay ahead of her.

"You will carve out your own path," she continued, increasingly amazed of how clear her vision of the future was, as flawless and precise as a well-wrought sword. Had the world-altering affected her too, granting her the gift of foreknowledge? "You'll find a purpose similar but unlike your mother's, and a place to call home. You will make friends and aid in many heroic endeavours."

"And will I return here?"

For the first time since her creation, Yumeko hesitated. "I can't see that far."

Alice nodded once more. There was a spark in her still-shifting eyes that hadn't been there before.

They walked the rest of the journey in silence. At the gap, Yumeko relinquished her hand and looked on quietly as Alice checked to make sure she had everything she needed — just her grimoire, really, now firmly locked — before finally looking up.

"Goodbye, then." Her voice was lower than before. An affectation of maturity or a genuine shift? Yumeko could no longer tell.

She curtsied briefly. "Until we meet again."

For a moment, Alice looked as though she wished to say something further. The look melted away, replaced by a tight-lipped, but hopeful smile. She turned.

Yumeko stared after her for only a while longer, time flowing through every inch of her being. Duty called.

The very last thing she saw before she phased away was Alice, small but straight-backed, walking briskly towards the great unknown future.


End file.
